Silent Night

A family member recently shared a website that focuses on the awareness and rescue of persecuted Christians in the Middle East. This cause certainly requires a collective voice to speak up. As I checked out the site further, I was drawn to a seemingly opposite topic, the case for silence. There in the blog tab was an entry from June 9, The Gift of Silence.

Why silence? And what makes it a gift? I have recognized that particularly as an artist, my need to retreat into solitude—often in complete silence—rises up on a regular basis. With all the usual and often wonderful daily demands, pulling away can seem impossible as the author shares. It’s not impossible, but it is essential.

Although I don’t go on a noise sabbatical nearly as often as I’d like, I have learned to incorporate this discipline as a part of the creative process, especially with painting. When I retreat to my studio to paint, I often do so in silence. I find it increases my sensitivity to God. It calms me. It becomes prayer. I emerge (hours later) refreshed, inspired, productive—and joyful. Simply put, I’m at my best. There may be such a discipline for you … one that is linked to your passion—one that becomes prayer.

Consider this question, an excerpt from the above-mentioned blog:

Can those who do not know silence ever attain truth, beauty, or love? Do not wisdom, artistic vision, and devotion spring from silence, where the voice of God is heard in the depth of the human heart?